by #thebarexam

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for more music by MICjordan and TheGreenRoom, please visit:


for music by other TPR artists, please visit:

Agustus ThElefant at soundcloud.com/agustus-thelefant
Bru Lei at soundcloud.com/bru-lei
Century Got Bars at century1.bandcamp.com
Mahtie Bush at mahtiebush916.bandcamp.com
MICjordan at ensitenonstop.bandcamp.com
MLS (Monotone and Lou Slug) at soundcloud.com/wearemls
Nome Nomadd at www.reverbnation.com/nomenomadd
NowOrNever (NON) at www.reverbnation.com/noworneveroftol
Old Ghost at oldghost1.bandcamp.com
Poor Majesty at poor.bandcamp.com
Styles1001 at styles1001.bandcamp.com
Tribe of Levi at tribeoflevi.bandcamp.com


released November 18, 2014

all beats by TheGreenRoom AKA WesttKraven
all lyrics by MICjordan:EnsiteNonStop except where otherwise noted
all vocals by MICjordan:EnsiteNonStop except where otherwise noted
additional vocals on "Legendary" by WesttKraven

no celebrities were harmed in the making of this audio recording

recorded by MICjordan at Metroplex, Sacramento, CA
mixed and mastered by 26 Hours at The Study, West Sacramento, CA



all rights reserved


#thebarexam Sacramento, California

WesttKraven (aka TheGreenRoom) and MICjordan have been teaming up to create unconventional underground sounds since 2001. Rejecting the notion that hiphop shouldn't challenge its audience, the Sacramento, CA duo takes pride in making music the so-called 'wrong way.' ... more

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Track Name: Voldemort
I am he who shan't be named, unspoken, most-ducked
black male Calamity Jane, but not gross enough to have grossed enough
to post up with the most deluxe frozen stuff
but still known for going nuts on microphones and giving the Holy Ghost to sluts
niggas that's really on the hood don't claim it lightly
'cuz when it's on like that you still have family banging nightly
and I was never on, but growing up I had to know enough
to decode the totem pole and bro, you are low as fuck
many dudes got female details when you're close up
you ain't a G, I know your folks--you froze up when toast bucked
too scared to even run, but mad peeps believe in son,
I cashed in my reality check, we're all in need of one
seeing unbelievably dumb shit jump off for no reason
ain't even wait for evening to come,
that's broad day, Stockton Boulevard and Broadway, all day
raw like bleeding gums, where the guns sound like beating drums
America, we eat our young, snatch their feet, delete the rungs,
from the ladders we climbed, tamper with minds, TV's a drug
media, we eat it up, it teaches us to not think enough
to fail to recognize the real 'cause feeling it can heal us up
cause healthy satisfied people can see through standard lies
of how to be happy you have to buy whatever's advertised
my calcifying passion cries out for lost motion
thoughts open, awesome portents of holocaust omens,
costs and quotients, gains and payoffs, paid vacay to layoffs,
been shittin' since Mitch Richmond was in the playoffs
I'm like Damarcus Cousins' smaller more talkative cousin
'cause I got all offensive options so I ball like it's nothin'
all-star with my nuts-in your face while I'm dunking
like 23 in '92, not even barking, just shrugging
but even if I'm always fronted on like Rod Strickland,
I'll still go coast to coast, rise and posterize your big man
The People's Revolution is the rawest most outlandish clique
CDC quarantines my ciphers screaming "that man is sick!"
Track Name: HouseOrField
I think half of these rappers should wear blackface
reinforcing every stereotype from past days
I can't blame blame 'em, entertainment is a business
the kind where you're hurriedly buried for bearing witness
so instead you're almost propelled towards hellish diction
very few can craft wisdom into compelling fiction
so what sells is friction, cause it's easily mass produced
omnipresently marketed, targeted at the youth
controversy for profit reversing positive thoughts
taught the audiences so consciousness is not often bought
cause it makes 'em feel uncomfortable, maybe they feel judged
I just feel like the stuff I hear ain't real enough
real is what makes us unique as human beings
real is everything that we're feeling, thinking,
doing, seeing,
being and becoming, people linking and struggling
and that's way more than just clubs, guns, drugs and fucking

you say you a real nigga
I'ma call a spade a spade
whether you're house or field,
nigger, a slave's a slave

it's open season on black children
when being seen as threats justifies the act of killing
even when they're unarmed, totally within their rights
in a car at a gas station, or walking home at night,
and Americans are programmed to see blacks as threats
this includes other black people too, alas, we're set
against each other like Set against his brother Osiris.
Consider that next time you throw up a set's sign just
to look more acceptable or make a public spectacle
I know OGs who see that will definitely be testing you
cause it's disrespectful to cheapen what homies died for
too many phonies claiming alliances they ain't ride for
until they saw it as an easy way of making money
nigga how you gonna START gangbanging in your twenties?
That's literally retarded, how stupid is that?
think you're making moves? Fool, you're just moving us back

Track Name: Kalifornia
it's time for revenge
I'm on the edge, mind on a binge, rhyming is grim,
writing to fight off my demons at night, heating the page while grinding my pen
lighting up embers they find you dismembered, limb from limb by Ensite on a whim
for biting your life can end, I'm Mic Jordan, I'm trying to win
at all costs, call the cops it's a holocaust for ballers choppin all your knots off
and it's not gonna halt or stop cause yall are so gassed you musta been topped off
inhaling fumes, you're a wailing coon,
I will Dexter your ass and detail the room
females too, any rapper can get it
spit your sentences, listen while they're smashed in an instant
you are actors and henchmen, not avid musicians
I'm an artist, y'all are marks if you askin the difference
I will smack you while grinning like the Joker, snatch your drink
piss in it, hand it back to you, then crap in your sink
that's a good laugh to me, completely deranged, ghastly
ruthless execution when I'm in the chamber gassing

Let 'em die.... Let 'em die!

Cali swag, Alabama to Canada
grand chancellor, cancel challengers' chances, channeler
of the ghosts of dead emcees scrolling through my rolodex
dextrously roll a cone of fresh locally grown bless
exploding your dome check uno, dos, ghoulish host, who do the most
definite moves to ruin boasts of foolish folks
I'm wide awake like huge moving boats, each motion's making waves
every day the first thing I see is a banging babe
I'm languid but never languish my language slays
like the speech of a mack never reach just bring facts
linked like a lap top with rap talk
I never worry about these crabs' claws trying to grasp me
why they mad like back talk when they was trying to gas me
I got slaps like some fat ass cheeks on a lass dancing rapidly
master chief spazz on beats the covenant I made with the prophets was to flood Sac's streets
Track Name: BathSalts
I got a message from God,
He said "you'll rep and get respect but don't expect no applause,
before you even ask, yes it is hard,
to ever earn that, to even have a chance, know that you can never turn back"
word, black
so every time I choose to burn scratch to burn wax full of stern tracks,
my objective is odd:
to contact the first thought that emerged from blackness, a word lost in time and space
still reflected in all
we can see with eyes and ears, smell, taste or touch
I didn't make it up, I just make it what you hear now,
some of my peers made it suck, claim they clutch papers, chasing bucks, lame and fake as fuck,
I take the stage and bust and make 'em clear out,
like letting off the gauge, what a rush, it's amazing, plus, in every face, I see fear, wow
here pal: a penny for your thoughts,
when it was trendy you was gritty,
now that it's hipper to be a hipster you intentionally soft

eat a rapper like I'm off bath salts
when I rock like basalt
slash and burn like Cali's biggest cash crop
I ain't the type to grab the mic and slack off
my pants always sag cause I rap my ass off

the beat's palm to face, stay calm the place just got laced with napalm I sprayed on the break,
create songs and tapes off Js and bongs, I'm baked,
gone off an eighth of grapes, makin wrong statements like jakes on the take,
I'm rude boy, mami stays on my case
she juggle loads and love rockin a painted face,
don't even wipe it off... she wants to save a taste
what a shame like lames who leave the game disgraced,
I lay tracks underground to facilitate slave escapes
straight up, squares hating us 'cause we stay corrupt,
taping sluts who take-it-up the face and guts to make us bust/
you're not rappers, y'all inflatable dolls, fake fucks!
we make ducks mess up their make up, you make stuff up,
and that's why the game sucks, autistics trying to get the digits
these kids are offensive like saying 'stay up' to a midget,
my mind and quotes are both twisted and sick
spit lines so dope strippers sniff them off of my dick

Track Name: HeirJordan
masterful, elaborate handcrafted script
classical freak samples in/ labs, passionate
magical unique examples of mad craft and wit
casual ease, collabin with savs, that's the shit
battle foes, please pass me the dro, and the wick
catch us blowed, freestyles after shows, smashing cliques
crapping on their fitted caps, laughing while we flatten kids
while these plastic cats panic like they're trapped in Pan's Labyrinth
I'm the pinnacle of polemical penmanship, the principal
get my percentage and watch the interest grow, niggas know
at least if they're good with numbers, fill the backwood with lumber
what I dream of off the steam would make even Stevie wonder
in winter I speak the summer, in June I bring the rain
I speak on pain but it's just the feeling when people change
should I seek peace or fame? is it wrong to be hungry?
am I just a fool to not want to do it all for the money?
God was calling me plenty, I couldn't hear it though
my ego got so big it's hard for my spirit to grow
human beings are strange, my understanding is strained
where's the even exchange? It's underhanded and lame
when I reach for that chain, am I clamping my brain?
when I speak unrestrained, am I cramping my game?
is my heart ahead-of-my-mind, if-I'm-ahead-of-my-time-and it's wisdom I speak,
It might take a Century but you WILL see the vision eventually,

cancel calculus, disregard the law of averages
'cause what are the odds a squad so large would all be savages?
TPR and Sac, ya bitch, slapping sleepers' cabbages,
if your raps are lacking craft we flash like brandished laminates
Track Name: BluntSesh
the ecstasy of my victorious aura is glorious
five star TPRians, party with warrious
no peace cause it's no justice like it's Florida
you take shots without a leg to stand on -- Pistorious
the way I do this is dueterenomical,
but to be honest being an honorable dude isn't too economical
my folks think I'm talking too problematically nautical
I thought thought was dope! Feel like I got knocked for pot in Colorado, bro
but still Hef in the grotto fondling a model's boats
I wouldn't call you jokes biters if you called 'em quotes
...them some borrowed lines, we all on borrowed time
I want all mine spent on cloud nine off the loud kind
let the sour add some power to the mind when flowers fry
like hippies on liquid lysergic acid diethylamide
it's trippy like listening to tricky, word to rainbow people
retrain my brain to escape the strain, pain and evil

It's issues and repressed feelings I got to work on
even some things I learned from songs that make me process hurt wrong
this fiendish demon lurks on/ my shoulder, waiting for me to slip
it seems my grip is weakening, I'm thinking he might sink the ship
if I can't get him out my ear, always makes my doubts so clear,
makes my goals seem far away, always talking bout my fears
I gotta question whether my perceptions are projections,
and disconnect the structures I erected for protection,
now they were cages creating so much rage in me
love wifey more than life itself but find myself treating her crazily?
speaking angrily cause she perceives the things I hate in me
throwing tantrums when she won't participate in my make-believe
...I could use the guidance, I need a new approach
enough phantoms, clones, and revenge, I need a new hope
what I do to cope, is repose in the stillness
plus I use the smoke, for controlling my illness
Track Name: VandalSavage
Whenever I settle my brain to severing lobes I'm clever and terrible so
dissecting your whole intestinal asking you where is your soul as I sever your toes
and you scream it's unbearable goes to the top of the list of the obvious shit I would not want to miss
you ain't noticed my talk was so slick? why you acting all shocked, I thought that you wanted a hit
why else you listenin' to a hitman? From revenge-driven scams to sick plans beginning with pentagrams and end with six dismembered hands
in Iran with Ahmedinijad,
with a pen and pad I'm an arsonist in-a-lab, never caught my big break but still been as bad
as Heisenberg but there's no uncertainty I'll certainly murk a beat, hurling fighting words
type disturbed like sediment when your grave is dug, fuck craving love, this is ravens, blood, and blazing nugs of haze buzzed
like saw the jig is up, here's a little pick-me-up, a gift you'll love, you'll feel your life affirmed
kills from the skills snipers learn, stripes we earn from violent urges, hypodermic, frightful turns of events
go against, you'll get entombed in cement--Jimmy Hoffa
never seen many moneys, but best believe that we receive plenty propers
I don't do it for the pennies, just the winning and slaughter
grinning, I'm off the rocker, off the meat rack when I eat tracks, fuck the feedback, let it breathe, Mr. Green please cut the beat back
that boom bap true rap doing it moving clap to this
it isn't avarice that makes us ravenous, just the chance to mash a masochist and get a kick from the action, get
prepared, listen we rip and tear, it isn't fair competition you're finished here,
play your position or you're quickly getting smeared, figure four leg lock I'm Rick with more frickin flair!
I'll make you fly off a bannister, sly as Tyrion Lannister
cancel an amateur's plans, leave him trapped in a van and then go lamp in Canada
cracking the canisters open and passing out servings of whupass when flapping my masseters
mastermind minus the cameras blind to your macula planning your massacre
carjack then crashing your Acura, it's a fact that my acts are spectacular,
I catalyze battle rhymes half the time cats try to shine I just laugh 'cause they're wack as fuck
but the masses lap it up audiences still wanna pass the buck, some of our fans turn their back on us
even if that's what's up, I'm a still get profits off verses like Habbakkuk,
I'm so Old Testament, F the present tense 'cause the prevalent precedents are pestilent
the essence of excellence set to X out the excrement possessing elegant elements
relevant evidence to end the argument, pop up and start up proper partyin'
you startin shit with Donald Trump's barber, so when we part your wig
it's just a part of the gig, the various parts of your body got the pigs all in your crib
honestly I enjoy harming kids just as much as the artistry, dig?
so pardon me-if/ I seem like a psychopath, I'm not crazy, it's just that I like to laugh
not to keep from crying, but to see you dying is exciting, so I'm thinking I'ma try that path
you'll get beaten like hi-hats defeated by my mind trap your wife claps when I'm on the mic and wants the pipe, fact
'cause I'm fly as bats,
I'm a natural at this here rapping bro, give me a beat and I'm riding that
it actually doesn't matter to me if I never go national-- I AM SAC
Track Name: GameOfThrones
burning juniors like junipers, jupiter,
electrocuting elocution executioner,
carnifex, carnivore off the conifers, my confederates crush your confidence
complex like neuroses,
numinous, numerous new openings
in either minds or brains depending on whether I explain or go for heat
desire's pain, life is cyclical, like a ritual, Mic is biblical,
inspire cynical types with principles, why are we mystical
and so deep in denial decompiled deities, decomposing defiled
sleep is hope in a child
see the smoke and the crowds
streets is cold and so foul
we can grow if allowed
people so into style they like "what's this" when it comes to substance
fronting cause I'm old will still get you killed like fuckin muskets
miss me with your mystique, you're mincemeat over mesquite
even mosquitos get buzz, when it's a bunch of sheep listening

you're kindling, fuel, my kin will Kendo you
telekinetically controlling kids, we frickin own you
I ain't trippin off any rapper that isn't killin' it
what's a baboon to a motherfucking gorilla? shit,
I more or less have a porpoise's purpose, to go to depths
besting me at my best? I wouldn't hold my breath
my control's direct, ain't no need for remote,
don't need smilies in my texts to make you feel me emote
people, you're sleeping on TPR if you ain't crowned us yet
the town's best well-rounded vets been around a sec, down like vests
invested in vestiges of freshness our profession's been
systematically shedding like shredded vestments in
the race to the bottom,
relocating common denominators created problems,
the more of 'em the lower they got, a way to solve 'em
is to cultivate culture, 'cause when taste's appalling
innovative creators waste their calling
Track Name: WhosTheBestEmcee
When I was a kid, when rap was first going gold,
there were debates about the cat who most deserved to hold
the crown of the illest, Cool J was coming bold
but when you broke the lyrics down no one was going toe-to-toe
with Moe Dee, he was cold, only Mel and he was falling back
at this point in the past I didn't know about Cas
then 87 hit and left the effin' script scrambled
'cause KRS, Kane and Rakim were ripping samples
plus Rick was the slickest, Cube was bearing witness
PE was tremendous, EPMD was with the business
it was plain to see we were seeing a sea change
the Beastie's beats banged, listening to Ice T we peeped game
the music gave a whole new view, as the new school blew up we soon knew there was a new who's who
shit, the Juice Crew alone had a few dudes who had legitimate claims to having the most screws loose
that means the craziest manie scripts blazing language spit they way they did made me flip, we couldn't wait to get
the latest disc, and biting someone's style was a blatant dis,
whoever caught you doing it might would introduce your face to fists

before whip was a synonym for cars, we were awed
listening, lifting rhythms from the mall, we recall
how many niggas had ridiculous bars before we thought
"who's the best emcees, biggie, Jay-Z or Nas?"

I'm not trying to be offensive
but I been in this a minute, if my influences are your influences' influences
what I consider influenza is a bit ridiculous by the standards of niggas who never witnessed it
when I say I live this shit, I mean I been getting so intimate with my penmanship that we been hitched since I was a little kid
that's literal, it's like literature explodes from dreams into my skull and the ways I can flip it seem unlimited
it's pitiful how the artists were co-opted but when the whole media is controlled by conglomerates
it's almost no options unless you're down to dumb it down
and if you try to elevate the media will shut you down
if people see you tell it straight, evil seems to hunt you down
so we going under from fronting, I wonder 'bout the money
that directs the industry and ultimately leaves us hungry
and where it's coming from, when you follow the funding
you might realize why hardly nothing positive
is really getting that push, you try to leaven some minds
you either gotta compromise or make the message disguise
nobody nowadays is trying to hear a lecture, they're fine
rappers who don't put in effort or time
Track Name: Elegy
Up early, see the fog in the streets
remembering the stage and last night's applause, it's still sweet
reverberating in my ears as it echoes in my memory
I want a true career but can't let go what it gives to me
the intimacy, enmity, the intrigue and the inquiry
fifteen years of memories still so clear it seems
that I'm finna meet with Nome, Tobe, Wilson and Hasani
Ced, V and Josh, we just did it as a hobby
in a tiny ass apartment overlooking stiffened bodies
rigor mortised in the dumpsters niggas hit him 'em with the shotty
but I wasn't really trippin pimpin, I was living godly
freestyling, spitting game, getting lit at parties
back and forth from So Cal to Sac, first for school
then just to see my fam, bug out and act the fool
going with the homie Carl to meet up with his new date
third wheel? Fuck that, I stayed and screwed her roommate
carefree but not careless, but cared less about fear, I guess I was unprepared for stress
which appeared
in the form of my parents' return to the unmanifest
I'm feeling like "I'm still here, I guess"
that type of shit put hair on your chest and whiskey in your glass
reminiscing on a slippery past, grasping memories
the bottom was dropping out, my thoughts were all of doubt,
rap wasn't so much a route out as a primal shout, clout
wasn't ever much overall, but still was hard-earned
'cause you can bluff all you want but still ultimately you gotta pay up when the cards turn
so I learned to put my money where my mouth was
but somehow never managed to once fail to louse up
an opportunity through cockiness or inattention
talking all this shit, who am I really convincing?
and who's the intended target of my derisive diction?
it's me versus my face in the mirror, and if you listen
you can hear the sound of my voice cracking
every choice and action is a chance to either faceplant or show poise while landing
so I understand the situation's gravity
drifting, hating happily, this is a way to integrate my tragedy
and maybe get paid handsomely, that's what I thought
as it turned out, maybe not for that second part
but the first was so true I almost rued it
fell in love and even though I was happy I was rooted in fear I couldn't do it, the years were catching up to me
I didn't mind the grind when I was focused on discovery
but somewhere along the line, I got it in my mind what I really wanted was for other people to discover me
now I'm struggling
Track Name: Legendary feat. Nome Nomadd
What is the measure of a man, is it endeavors or his plans/
or the questions he can answer, or the pleasures in his hands/
It's whatever, it's all of them, and none of them at all/
It's the questions at the moment that a summer becomes the fall/
or the instant that a fall transforms into a landing/
when the first crack appears in the dam, it's so damning/
I go phantom, stealth mode when feeling overloaded/
go tantrum 'cause I'm just a local poet trying to get exposure/
from the elements like survivors floating after the boat exploded/
while gold shit goads the hopeless from apathy into rage/
and charity's ignored while catastrophes are staged/
and all the while, the math is getting made/
if graft gets you paid, does that mean making the craft my path is in fact crafting my grave?/
I got a gaze that's miles away, might casually say what happens when you actually slay dragons/
the public things you fight by filling mass graves/
with people who had unequal rights, 'cause that's strange/
is the American way an evil life? Shit makes me think/
Honestly, that question makes it kind of hard for me to sleep at night